Slytherin for the Win
by TheSnarkySmile
Summary: Harry Potter and his best friends, Fred and George, are sorted into Slytherin when they begin school. Harry had deemed himself Neville's Protector when he was five years old, but will prejudices get in the way of their friendship? Harry Potter just wants to make the world a better place, and feels like he wields the magic to do so. Hopefully he won't trust the wrong people.
1. Prologue

**Prologue:**

 **Protectors**

* * *

Something happened on the night Harry James Potter became an orphan. His mother gave her life for a blessing.

As the death eaters passed through the wards on Halloween night, Harry James Potter was being rocked to sleep by his mother, having woken up in a fit. Lily Potter, known for being the smartest witch of her time, heard her husband, heard the fighting, heard the Death Eaters as they took out James Potter, many falling first to his wand. It was then that she began chanting, the Nordic prayers she had come across in her husband's library, the runic arrays she had gently tattooed on her son's three-year-old body just a month before, just in case. It was her last hope. Halloween night, one of the most magical nights in the year, and she would be giving her life up to the Gods, or to Magic, or whatever it is that is beyond what she knows, she would be giving it up for him. Willingly and without a fight.

They came in. Just as she hoped, Bellatrix LeStrange, infamous and bat shit crazy, danced into the room as Lily was finishing the ritual. She kissed her young child on the forehead, eyes of steal. "I will always be with you, Harry. My magic, and my soul. I love you."

"Mom…" He whined, hands reaching for her and tears welling up in his ears. Bellatrix cackled from the side and magic enveloped his beautiful mother, exploding the room. There was heat. There was his mother's magic, all around him. He was young, he was overwhelmed, he was being touched by pure magic and his mother's soul. Voices he didn't quite understand were chanting. Everything was white. Then he slept.

Harry James Potter had been three years old when his parents had died. The night they died was the last night he slept. But something about that night… there was something that changed. He had runes that his mother had tattooed into his skin, they spiraled on the skin above his heart on his chest, always swirling in their spiral motion. When danger was near, they seemed to speed up. When he said his prayers, or was about to get hurt, they reversed their rotation. Each rune was perfectly written and he knew every line of it. It was soul magic, from his mother and his father. Both of whom had given their lives the night they died protecting him.

His grandfather, Charlus Potter, had taken him in. Only him, Sirius Black, and Albus Dumbledore knew that something extraordinary had happened that evening they died. They felt Lily and James on Harry, it was a magic presence that never left his own magic. The boy had grown, quickly, the way legends do. He grew up knowing his magic like no other child would. Every time he used it, every time he channeled his magic in his body, he felt the warmth of his parents. He loved magic. And he hardly ever missed his parents because of it.

Dorea Potter, Harry's grandmother, had lived for four years while Harry and Charlus. She was well on in years, but she had all the love in the world to give to Harry. They were happy. It was difficult for Charlus and Dorea, they were old, they were terribly sad for the loss of so many. But they, and Sirius, Harry's god father, figured out how to handle the extremely magical child.

Harry traveled. Everywhere. He never slept, his magic was too much to call for his body or mind to need the rest. And Harry was a very curious boy. Everything he encountered, he wanted to know about. He wanted to understand. Everyone who was slightly magically aware knew there was something about the boy that they just couldn't put their finger on. It wasn't his accepting nature, though that certainly helped. Charlus got headaches often, knowing that Harry tended to attract the attention of less politically savory magical creatures, gaining friendships with vampires and werewolves, spending time learning from the goblins, requesting tutors who needed to be compensated with great amounts for things like History, Harry's favorite subject. And Runes, Harry's favorite subject, one of the few ways he could practice magic before going away to school. He loved it. And he made friends.

There was one moment in particular that Harry thought on frequently. One that became something of a defining moment for the boy. If anyone asked him who he was, his first response was always, "Well, I'm a protector." And it was because of the talk that Sirius had had with him when he was just five years old.

"Uncle Paddy," Harry said, gaining the attention of his uncle from the puzzle that they were working on. His handsome godfather looked up at him. "Is Nev an orphan like me?"

His uncle's eyes got sad. "Yes, pup. Neville's parents, Frank and Alice, were killed the same night as yours."

"Who saved Neville?" he asked, knowing that it had been his mother and the greater magic that granted him saving from his own fate when he was younger.

"Well," his uncle began. "His mother and father saved him almost the same way you did. See, Lord Voldemort, the one who led the Death Eaters in the war, he was scared of Neville and his parents."

"He was scared of a baby?" Harry asked him, looking contrite. "That's stupid. So, he killed Neville's family because he was scared of a baby?"

Sirius's mouth twitched, but he still looked sad. "Yes. So, he killed Frank, and he killed Alice, but when he went to kill Neville… well, he tried to but the magic bounced back and killed him instead."

Harry thought, lips puckered. "So Vold… Volly… So, Mold Shorts killed himself because he was scared of a baby."

Sirius barked out laughter for a bit before his somber mood returned. "Yes, Harry. Moldy Shorts, or Voldemort," he coughed, hiding his laughter. "Voldemort was defeated that night. That's where Neville gets his scar from."

Harry nodded. "That's why he's called the Boy-Who-Lived. That's why people thank him for saving them?" His godfather nodded sadly. "They call him a protector, but he was a baby."

"Yes, they do."

"I don't think Nevly can remember it, I don't think he knows much of what happened, Uncle Paddy. He gets scared a lot." He looked at his godfather. "He saved a lot of people from being scared."

"Yes, I suppose he did."

"But he's so little, Uncle Paddy. Nevly is so tiny, still. And they treat him like he will protect him from every bad man like Moldy." He stared hard at the puzzle, putting two more pieces together before looking hard back at his godfather. "What if he gets scared? What if he doesn't want to protect everyone? He was so little. It doesn't seem fair. He's not big and strong like mummy and daddy were."

Sirius was choking back some tears. "No, he's not. But you get scared sometimes, don't you Harry?"

Harry nodded, thinking very hard. "But Pop told me, he said, 'Harry, you are special. You have many people who love you and care about you. If you trust them, they will protect you, all you need is faith and you never have to be scared.' And he said that it's okay to be scared, but you don't need to if you have people who love you and who protect you." Sirius was looking at him hard. Harry nodded at his godfather, deciding something. "I'll protect Nevly. That way he doesn't need to be as scared. He'll never have to be so scared if I'm protecting him. I'll be the best protector. We can be like brothers, like you and Daddy," he nodded to himself again, putting the last piece of the puzzle in the picture, looking at it. "I'll be his protector."

Sirius hugged him for a long time at that moment. That moment when Harry Potter started thinking of himself as a Protector. Sirius would go on to tell Neville's grandmother and Harry's grandparents of the moment, the one when they all decided to support Harry Potter however they could. He was a golden child, a heart of gold, he didn't judge people when he met them, no matter who they were or what they had done. He said if someone was truly bad, magic would tell them, and the few times he came across those people, his magic did tell him. And he trusted his magic. He trusted most magic. And people he was close with trusted him.

Harry was ten years old when his grandfather became ill. He had a magical disease that made his own magic erratic and made his body very sick. He had had it for a long time, and had valiantly fought it in hopes of living long enough for Harry to have support and know his routes.

Harry knew his grandfather. And he felt blessed knowing his grandfather. He was a great man, one who fought giants and Grindlewald. He protected his father from the war and gave him a childhood, and knew that that wasn't what Harry wanted. He saw people and times for what they were, he knew his grandson was meant for greatness and didn't curb his enthusiasm or try to tell him what was right and what was wrong. He had accepted, at the pleading dying wishes of his wife, that Harry would never see the world as Light and Dark. He would never look at a Death Eater and think, you deserve death. He would never shy away from a vampire's touch, or a hug from a werewolf. And he had learned a lot from Harry, and Harry had learned a lot from him.

"One day, Harry, one day when you are sixteen, you are going to run this family. You are turning into a great man, Harry. And I am so," Charlus had tears in his eyes, something that made Harry want to cry. But he didn't, he knew his grandfather would want him to be strong and composed. He knew this day was coming. He would feel the magic, feel the presence of death begin to settle on the room. "I am so proud of you, grandson. Go on and follow your dreams. You can do whatever you wish, Harry. Build the life you want. You have a great head on your shoulders, and you are, you are good, Harry. The Protector Potter. I love you."

"I love you, too, Pop." Harry said, hugging his grandfather. He felt the old man gently hug him back. His godfather was behind him, struggling with his own emotions. "I'll keep an eye on Uncle Sirius and Uncle Remus for you."

"Atta boy," he said, chuckling, ruffling Harry's hair. Harry could see the magic draining from him. "Sirius, watch out for Harry. He is Lily and James' legacy. Love him, please."

"I do. I will. Thank you, Charlus. For everything."

"I am proud of you, Sirius. You have turned into a fine man. You'll make the Black name noble once more."

They sat together in silence, Remus walking into the room and paying his last respects. The trio watched as he died peacefully. Finally, Harry began crying, his uncles crying alongside him. The funeral would be two weeks later, one that nearly every family in the wizarding world would attend.

Harry welcomed everyone to his Grandfather's funeral. He knew that his grandfather was one of the younger wizards of his generation to pass. Many of his generation had passed in wars, others had fled and refused to return. Those who knew of their family's connections to Charlus Potter, a Baron whose title was earned defending his people in battle and proving themselves on battle and in the political rink, they were all present. Harry encouraged everyone to, if they could find the time, leave him a letter of their fondest memories and stories of his grandfather, someone whom he wanted to create a magical memorial of on the Potter grounds.

That was Harry's first major public showing. Most of the people there had already met the young man and fondly remembered his bright, childish curiosity. The aura of his magic had people willing to talk to him, he made people feel warm and listened to. And seeing this child, someone so honest in their love and respect of their family, asking a simple kindness from any who wished to aid him in any way with his grandfather's passing, it did something to the wizarding community. It drew them together. And for the first time, the wizarding community considered Harry James Potter as someone with a bright future, regardless of light or dark affiliations. And suddenly, Harry James Potter was on the radar.

Sirius Black had lived a unique life. He couldn't help but wonder briefly what would have happened had things gone just a bit differently. What if Harry had been the boy-who-lived? What if he had chased after Peter and tried to kill him instead of listening to Charlus when he had arrived, just after Sirius, at the ruins of his best friends' home? What if Charlus and his Aunt Dorea had passed? He certainly would have been a different person.

One thing was true, and of that truth, there was nothing truer: His life was better because of Harry James Potter.

His godson, heir to the Potter line, next heir to the Black line should anything happen to Sirius, was golden. It wasn't that he could do no wrong, because the lord knew that the time he gave his grandfather's prized watch away to a muggle child, one that had been passed on for generations… he just wanted the kid to have something nice.

And they had traveled. A lot. It had only taken one trip to France for Harry to convince the men in his life that nothing could be lost from traveling. And he was right, as he usually was. The world was so big, something Sirius hadn't considered until Harry picked an interest in seeing everything there was to see. And it was addicting. Once they had started traveling, Sirius found he never wanted to stop. It was endless, and it was thrilling. It was something he had never considered before, but it was just as much as a blessing as Harry himself had been. The people they met, the stories they heard, the things they saw… everything Sirius knew and believed about the world was erased. His upbringing didn't allow for the wonder of the world to set in, the pride in being a British Wizard had built and understanding of their culture being the best, the greatest in the world, but that just wasn't so.

In America, they saw whole entire mountain ranges that had been hidden from muggles. The aboriginals there had secret magics that continued to hide their societies from anyone without magic, and all their technologies. They visited the underground cities in the Catskills, traveled to the vast Mer-cities in the Great Lakes, heard tales of Kings and Queens, their troubles and their successes, partook in the tribal circle celebration of the Summer Solstice with a clan descended from an Aztec clan. Harry was unique and could gain acceptance into all types of societies, he would play with their young, charm their leaders, ultimate built relationships that extended so far passed any boundary that had commonly been accepted that his name was brought to attention in all types of settings.

And that's how he began recording stories. He always got permission, but something Sirius found everyone wanted was a voice. And Britain was notoriously cut off from the rest of the world. It was a society that, true, was very magical and had vast magical histories that others looked to for answers, but also it was something of a mystery to the rest of the world. Not much news got in and not much news got out. And it was true, there were a few obstacles along the way. Sirius had to make promise after promise to tell the tales true. Everything he recorded, everything he wasn't allowed to say, everything he knew was backed up with oaths. It was made easier by Harry's presence. He wanted to learn, and he wanted to understand. And many, many people wanted to impress the Potter. They felt his magic, it was pure. And they met him, and saw the glimmer in his eyes. He truly brought out the best of the people around him. It was exciting.

He recorded stories. He began writing whole novels, Harry taking on the job of translating texts from their languages to English, something he was apparently born to do. By the time his grandfather had passed away, Harry hadn't come across a language that he didn't learn. And that was saying something. There was one other magical man in England who could lay claim to such a proficiency in language, and that was Barty Crouch.

Sirius had yet to publish any of his stories. He was in contact with twenty-nine different magical peoples, all over the world, and he would send them transcript after transcript, in their language and in English, wanting to perfect it before publishing it in any capacity. Finally, he would be publishing the first ten books later the next year in America, with hopes that if it did well in the more accepting community there that it would gain an interest in England as well.

Among the amazing things they saw while abroad, Sirius had the stunning realization that Harry was not only a metamorphagus, like his cousin Nymphadora Tonks, a trait present in the Black family, but was also a Parslemouth. Beyond that, Harry could communicate with all types of magical creatures. Not much was known about Parslemouths, though they had a very bad reputation in England. Harry had found, on a trip to India when he was seven, that he could understand the conversations going on between the snakes and the charmers. And that's what they were known as there, Charmers. Most Charmers didn't know about the magical community, in fact, Harry had only met one other Parslemouth who was magical, and they hid their ability like Harry because there were people in the world who wanted to take advantage of that. It made sense, though. If you could talk to the dragons, you could control them, in a way. Being friends of dragons… that was powerful indeed.

And that's what it came down to. Harry could communicate with all types of snake like creatures. Dragons, ashwinders, basilisks, cockatrice, even nundu. As it turned out, many of the most magical creatures, anything that seemed to come from a scaled background, seemed to understand when Harry spoke with them. And, if Sirius thought about it, that was probably one of the biggest blessings that Harry had. It was, after all, what Harry wanted. He wanted to understand. And Sirius, knowing in his heart that he would gain the most from his life if he spent it helping Harry on his path, seized the opportunities that were presented, from those who wanted to be understood, and found something in his heart was filled with pride from having overcome his past, from having move forward from being the boy who believed everything to be black and white, good and bad, from understanding that there was a back story and a history to every person and everything that happened, that there was a connection to everything going on around him and how he could listen and understand rather than seeing something and judging it as he once had. He had a purpose. He found a calling. He was building relationships and connections with people he never considered. He found love in a Veela Harry had introduced him to on a trip to Paris. He made friends with outcasts and hidden societies who bettered him in a way he would have never in a million years thought possible. And he felt just as blessed as he considered Harry to be.

He had learned to follow his heart, to put more stock in things like love than revenge. He learned to grow. And he had Harry Potter to thank for that.

* * *

 **A/N: Let me know if you'd like to beta my story, please. I'm not sure if I'll continue, but if someone's encouraging and helping me along the way, it would be difficult to just give up.**

 **-Krissy**


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter One**

 **Sorting Hats and First Impressions**

* * *

Harry James Potter sat on the train ride into Hogwarts, very excited. He stared at his wand, mind running a mile a minute. It was finally time. He was finally going to the castle he had heard countless stories about for years. He finally, _finally_ , had a wand.

And it was a beautiful wand.

He had a friend he had made in New York, Benjy. Benjy was a decedent of famous muggle lines, being born to parents who came from Founding Fathers of the United States of America. Benjy, much like Harry, was a serious history geek. Unfortunately for Benjy, not many magicals in America put much stock into the muggles they lived side by side with. But, Benjy was proud, nonetheless, and Harry could understand that. They became fast friends and Benjy joined him, Remus, and Sirius as they toured the more magical aspects of the North-Eastern states in America. Sirius had even paid for most of Benjy's travels with them, since he was so filled of information and brought so much to their experience. He seemed to know a little bit about everything, no matter where they were, and if he didn't, he figured out a way to find a person who knew more. It was great.

Benjy had pleaded with Harry to let him craft his wand when the time came. It was his passion, besides being a history nut. You see, Benjy had a bit of elf and pixie blood in him, making him something of a magical conundrum. While it wasn't exactly rare, per say, to come across someone who descended from different types of magical backgrounds, it wasn't common to meet them and have them tell you about their family's history. But there Benjy was, the product of witches and wizards who had affairs and relationships with magicals who weren't simply witches or wizards, and it led to him. He was quite the character.

But Benjy had a gift. He had an affinity to magical matchmaking. He could feel someone's magic when he was near them, he could nearly taste their essence, something that made him very fond indeed of Harry, who's magic was pure and intoxicating in a way. Thrilling to experience. And he found that crafting wands and staffs for different magicals was a way for him to best compliment that affinity. It became an art form for him. He did it mostly as gifts, crafting the most beautiful, spectacular wands and staffs. He wasn't well known yet, but Harry had no doubt that one day he would be one of the most sought after wand makers in the world.

He had crafted Harry's wand that summer, finishing the week before Harry was due to go to school. It was the most beautiful wand Harry had seen, wood having been given willingly from a particular weeping cherry blossom tree, one with a magical history of having the soul of a heart broken mother inside of it, one Harry had come across when he was seven and had somehow been called forward to. She had dropped a single stick of wood in his hands, still alive, and he had planted it in Potter Manor in the cemetery to keep his ancestors company and protect them. That tree that had grown much in the following years had been the one that Benjy had Harry sing to and ask a bit of wood from for his wand.

Once Harry had the wood, he had to get the stone. The Australia goblins, some of whom were particularly fond of Harry, had given him a magical opal stone with bits of mithril stemming to it after Harry had shown them great respect and Sirius had recorded one of their stories with promises to tell it properly. It was a gift of hope and promise, which is what that particular stone happened to represent in their community.

Then Harry had to find the cores. Benjy and he had talked about it for long, long periods of time. Harry had three known cores that spoke to his magic that he really connected with. A griffin claw from his grandfather's favorite griffin, the shell of an ashwinder who had bit Harry and bonded with whom Harry named Shelly, and a feather from Albus Dumbledore's phoenix friend, Faux.

The process was long and very tiring. Benjy made Harry work with him to craft the wand, believing that there could be no better wand for someone than a wand they helped create and understood. They sung the songs together, Benjy using old rituals and enchanting that wasn't used anymore for wandlore. Slowly the wand came together, everything molding and forming to best combing each other into a beautiful wand, one that bent and twisted itself together, the beginning grip of the wand being a brilliant, grooved opal, the mithril spinning from it and winding itself up into the wood of the wand, strongly molding it all together, tying the cores together in a delicate knot that fell inwards into the wand at the tip.

The best part about the wand is that there was enough of each material to make two. So, Harry James Potter, had two, beautiful, unique, intricate wands, each of which was perfectly in tune with his magic in a way that no other wand he came across had been. Sirius and Remus had been so impressed that they set up times to make their own wands with Benjy later that year. He loved it. And he especially loved the story of friendship behind it.

The compartment door opened, shaking Harry from his musings and he grinned. "Gred, Forge, fancy seeing you here!"

"Heya Harry!" Fred Weasley, a short Weasley twin from the rather large magical family, greeted.

"Excited?" George asked, throwing his stuff up on the carrier. Fred and George had three older brothers, one of whom had graduated and was trying to start a career as a cursebreaker for Gringotts, Bill, the second who was in his final year of Hogwarts and was the Quidditch Captain of their house team that year, his name was Charlie, and the third, Percy, who had top marks in his year and was starting to take an interest in possibly working for the ministry of magic. The twins were in the middle of their family, the trouble makers, and Harry was best friends with them. They invited him over all the time and Harry almost always spent most his time at the Weasley Burrow with the twins when he was home, telling them all about his travels, the rest of the family taking a huge interest in their travels as well, Charlie and Bill in particular asking Sirius and Remus about different places and people… Sirius and Harry had even introduced Bill to the goblins personally when he interviewed as a cursebreaker. Unknown to their mother, Charlie was considering a career as a dragon handler, something he spent lots and lots of time talking privately to Harry about, Harry giving him books about dragons, contact information to the reserves, and training manuals for things he should know and practice if he was really serious with the career.

The twins' younger siblings, Ron and Ginny, were rather fond of him also. They loved listening to his stories, so filled with magic and adventure. And Ron was friends with Neville, the boy-who-lived, the same boy whom Harry personally considered to be something of a younger brother.

If Harry wasn't at the Burrow with the Weasley twins, he was spending time with Neville. And usually, if Harry was at the Burrow, so too was Neville. The two spent lots and lots of time together. Neville sort of relied on Harry. After Harry had proclaimed himself a Protector, Neville's gran, a stern, cranky old woman who, in Harry's opinion, put much too much on Neville's shoulders, took a liking to him. Harry would help Neville during his training lessons, and his presence made a noticeable difference where everyone was concerned. Neville was more calm, more focused. He trusted Harry and Harry never took advantage of that. Neville loved Harry like a brother and treasured him. Whenever he felt like he couldn't do something, that he wasn't good enough or strong enough for something, Harry pulled through. Harry had even introduced Benjy to Neville and Benjy was going to help Neville make his wand two years later when he would be attending Hogwarts.

"Just a little." He helped the twins throw their belonging up on the racks. "How was your mum?"

"We're not sure if she was crying from relief," George started.

"Or crying because she's going to miss yelling at us so much." Fred winked at Harry. "But she'll have plenty to yell at us for next summer after we can start making up new pranks."

Harry shook his head. They spent the rest of their ride together arguing about which house would be best for each of them. Finally, Fred and George agreed that, everything they knew about each house being put aside, they would do best in Slytherin and Harry would probably be best either there or in Hufflepuff.

"Say…" George started tentatively. "Say we did get sorted into Slytherin… That would kind of be great, wouldn't it?"

Fred frowned at his brother, seriously considering it. "Well." He blinked and grinned. "It would be the greatest prank of the century. Since Sirius had been sorted into Gryffindor, even. Imagine, two Slytherin Weasleys. And a Slytherin Potter to boot!"

Harry considered it. He didn't give any credence to houses dictating whether someone was evil. That was a stupid way to live life. And he had to agree, he was ambitious enough to be a Slytherin. He had goals. He knew the importance of alliances, power, and blood. It wasn't that he believed in blood purity, no not at all. But it was possible that if he truly wanted to make a difference in the world his family lived in, the one he descended from and into, that he would only make that difference from inside the snake den. It was, after all, notorious for its roots in blood purity, something he thought was bogus.

"Guys, I think I might be sorted into Slytherin." The twins looked at him then at each other. Then they looked back at him again. "Can we still be friends if I am?"

"Harry, if you're sorted into Slytherin-"

"We'll be right there beside you." The twins said.

The trio sat for a few moments in silence, thinking about how their lives would be if they were sorted into the house of the snakes. Each became more and more certain that it would be a good route for each of them.

The train stopped and Harry followed the twins off. "Firs' years! Firs' years, over 'ere!"

Harry grinned at the half giant, walking with his friends toward the man. "Hey, Hagrid!"

"'Arry! And Fred 'n George! Excite'd for tha' sortin' then?" he asked, grinning broadly at the small first years.

"Sure are, Hagrid," Fred said, beaming at him.

"Should be interesting, can't wait," George agreed.

"I've been excited for school since I knew about Hogwarts, Hagrid. You know that!"

Hagrid laughed and patted Harry on the shoulder, making the first year's knees buckle from the impact. "Good to 'ear, good to 'ear. Y'all better stop in from time to time when classes start."

"We will Hagrid," the three promised in unison. They followed the other first years down the path that Hagrid began down to the edge of the lake where boats were waiting. They boarded with another first year, a boy Harry knew from socials that the Weasleys tended to avoid.

"Hey, Cedric," Harry greeted.

"Hullo, Harry," Cedric grinned. He and Harry were two of the more handsome children in the community. Cedric, Harry knew, was going to be groomed into a politician like his father, and his grandfather, and his grandfather's father, and so on. There were a few Minister of Magic's in the Diggory line, and the family was rather proud of that fact. "And you're the Weasley twins, right?"

"Right you are, Cedric. I'm Fred-"

"And I'm George. It's-"

"A pleasure to make your acquaintance," they finished together.

Cedric grinned at them and gripped the side of the boat as it gave a lurch forward. The boys talked to one another about how they were going to be sorted, Harry disagreeing with the twins' promise that they were going to face a troll and be sorted based on how they tried to handle it. Their discussion was interrupted by the castle coming into view, a moment Harry had waited for for what seemed to be his entire life.

He couldn't recall ever seeing something so beautiful and magical.

They each took it in, silently. The boys got off the boat with the rest of their class, moving steadily up to the castle, excitement building. When the doors to the Great Hall opened, Professor McGonagall introduced herself to the class, giving Harry and the twins a particularly pointed glance when she reminded them to be on their best behavior as they waited for the sorting. Each gave her nearly identical innocent looks to which she sighed and shook her heads muttering about karma and marauders.

The castle felt alive to Harry, magic pulsing all around him. He couldn't concentrate on it now, he knew he would get dizzy if he did, but later that night when everyone else slept, well nothing would be able to stop him from beginning running his hands and feet over each part of the castle. He knew from his godfather and uncle Remus that there were parts of the castle that even they hadn't been able to explore, simply because of how old and magical it was. Harry wanted to know every corner.

Harry felt Shelly, his pet ashwinder, peek its head cautiously out of the inner pocket of his robes to see for herself what the inside of the castle looked like. _"There iss sso much magic here, Harry… I ssensse the presencce of a great one…"_ Before anyone could notice Shelly or he could question her, her head disappeared back inside his robes and Professor McGonagall returned, the ghosts that had briefly appeared to welcome them disappearing into the Great Hall where the students and staff awaited them.

A magical hat sat on a stood at the front of the room. A tear in the brim opened like a mouth and Harry grinned. He wanted to befriend that hat.

As the hat sang a song, Harry looked around. There were five tables, four for students of each house and one for the staff at the front of the room. The ceiling was incredible and shown clearly the sky above. There were a few portraits inside the room, the castle was known for having hundreds and hundreds of magical paintings. The sorting began and Harry waited his turn patiently. He knew a handful of the other students in his year and had nodded or waved at the few others in the room who he had made eye contact with and recognized. Nymie, or Tonks as her friends knew her by, was at the Ravenclaw table, hair in a long intricate braid. She made her eyes so extra wide to match her unnaturally big smile when she grinned at Harry, him matching the face as he always did. They had both been cautioned by his grandfather to hide their particular ability at school so as to not be taken advantage of, and the few times that Nymie had messed up and changed her hair color in front of people had been chalked up to a prank from the Weasleys.

Cedric was sorted into Hufflepuff. It wasn't surprising to Harry, the boy was dead ringer, being Mr. Popularity where their circles were concerned and generally being fair and hard working. His mother had also been a 'Puff. Harry and the twins cheered for him and he shot them a thumbs up.

Finally, Harry was called to the front and smirked as the hat was placed on his head. He was startled as a voice rang in his head. "Ah, Mr. Potter… yes I have heard much about you over the years, much indeed…"

"Hello, Hat. Do you have a proper name, or do you just go by the Sorting Hat?"

"You can call me Sort for short if you wish. Now that's an interesting idea… yes… I wouldn't mind taking a break from the Headmaster's office every so often."

"Cool," Harry thought, grinning. "You've been around since the Founders' time, haven't you?"

"Indeed, Harry. And yes, I have plenty a tale to tell since you're so very inclined… yes, quite the mind you have here, and powerful, yes. You'd do well in any given house, no doubt, no doubt… yes… but, hmm… Your thirst for knowledge and understanding is unparalleled by any I have seen recently. Your courage in the face of fear is unmistakable. Your friendships and hard work are extraordinary. But your aspirations… hmmm…. Yes, there is no doubt you are meant for great, great things, Harry Potter. Great things indeed. And I think I know just the house to help you there. Better be- SLYTHERIN!"

The hall was dead quiet for a minute as Harry hopped off the stool and placed the hat back on it. He was used to attention and being the focus of it. It wasn't the first time he had surprised a large gathering of people, and hopefully it wouldn't be the last. The looks on the professors was priceless. McGonagall was open-mouthed with surprise. Dumbledore himself even looked surprised, eyebrows raised and mouth parted as if he was about to ask a question once he could think of it. Perhaps the most curious expression was that of Severus Snape, the Potions professor and head of the Slytherin house, who looked both like he was about to faint and like he wanted to protest. Harry knew the history of the man and both of his parents, he was hoping the man wouldn't see him as his father's son and instead as his mothers'. Time, however, would tell.

The twins began the cheering for him, then the Slytherin house followed, cheering loudly, the rest of the hall following suit. Harry had been on the list of incoming first years to keep an eye on. He was even considered mentionable in the Daily Prophet as they reminded the population of the newest edition of the generation to begin their magical education, the paper going to far as to mention how composed and moving he had been at the funeral of his grandfather, Baron Potter, one of the three Barons to be named over the course of the last century and certainly one of the greatest losses in the community in recent years.

The only other time the Hall had been speechless after a sorting was for the Weasley twins, as Fred was sorted first into Slytherin with Harry and Charlie could be heard warning the brother of their mum having kittens, then again to George who got quicker applause because of the lack of the surprise for that sorting.

Dumbledore, being the peculiar old man that he was, said a few, short words and announced the start of the feast, food appearing magically on each of the plates in front of the students. "A Potter and two Weasleys', sorted into Slytherin… I don't know who is rolling in their graves more, your ancestors', or the founders."

Harry grinned at Marcus, the boy who had made the comment. "I think my family's a bit used to these types of surprises from me, so probably Slytherin. Harry James Potter," he said, introducing himself.

"Marcus Flint." He eyed Harry and then the twins. "Your brother is Charlie Weasley, captain for Gryffindor's quidditch team, right?"

Fred nodded and George spoke. "Yeah, he's being scouted already for some of the leagues."

Marcus nodded. "He's been mentioned in quidditch circles a lot this summer. Puddlemere really wants to sign him on as their Seeker. Do you know if he'll do it?"

The twins grinned and shrugged. "It's hard to say."

"Quidditch doesn't seem to be exciting enough for Charlie over there."

"He's a real adventure seeker."

"Bit of a prat about it, really."

"Constantly trying to kill our mother with his exploits before we can."

"There's bets going on in our family of which of us will finally do it."

The twins look at each other. "It'll probably be Charlie." They finished together in agreement.

Harry chuckled and pat Marcus on the shoulder. "They're not always like that, I promise. They just like to be gits when the opportunity presents itself. Keeps people on their toes."

Marcus just shook his head and started filling his plate.

Harry introduced himself to the rest of his classmates, some who seemed to be far colder to him than others. He understood that their parents had not in any way been friendly, but he wasn't going to judge any of his peers because of it. Everyone would have an equal opportunity at proving themselves with him.

The feast went and the Headmaster stood at the front of the room, introducing himself and the rest of the staff, explaining some of the key rules about the school, reiterating that the forbidden forest was named such because it was off limits. He seemed to issue that warning directly to Harry and the Weasley twins, all of whom identically folded their hands and looked up at the very interesting ceiling, whistling identical tunes of innocence. Harry spotted the Headmaster's eyes twinkling and the smile that crept up on the old man's face.

When they were dismissed and led from the Great Hall into the dungeons, their fifth year prefect warned them about the school. "You shouldn't let any of the other students know where the common room is located."

"That's right," the boy agreed. "That's how we end up being pranked and infiltrated. While it's all in good fun, it is frustrating, and it can be avoided if we maintain the secrecy of our location."

"It will also prevent any inter house bullying from taking place. While bullying is not necessarily tolerated in the school, it doesn't always prevent Slytherins from being picked on for being 'Dark' where everyone else is considered 'Light'."

The prefects opened the entrance and the statue moved away from the door, showing them the regal looking common room. The twins grinned, taking in all the snake memorabilia. "Charlie's right," Fred told George.

"Kittens. Loads and loads of kittens."

"At least the green won't clash as much with your hair as much as the red." Harry looked at his friends and smiled conspiratorially. "Maybe that's what you can chalk it up to. Tell her you didn't want to look as stupid as your brothers all the time walking around with red robes that clashed with their hair. The green looks much better on you, after all."

The twins cackled, clapping Harry on the shoulder. They quieted up as the prefects got their attention again. "Tomorrow morning our Head of House, Professor Snape, will introduce himself to you. You will be down in the common room at 7:00, on the dot. We keep to a strict code of punctuality in our house, it will see that you get in the habit for your future."

"If you're punctual," the other prefect explained. "Then you're less likely to miss the opportunities you come across. And the more opportunities you seize, the more you'll come across."

He allowed for the message to sink in before his companion explained the living situation. "Each year has their own private study area. There are seven arches in the common room. That one," she pointed to an arch in the furthest corner. "Is the one that your year will be in for the rest of your time at Hogwarts. It is expected that you will all study together and maintain good grades, aiding one another in your strongest subjects."

They walked into the archway and looked around the space. It was cozy and quiet. There was a large circular table in the middle of the circular room, twelves seats around it, presumably for each of the twelve new Slytherins that were entering their year. Hufflepuff had had more students, coming in first at fifteen first years, Gryffindor and Ravenclaw each gaining ten.

"The boys' rooms are through that door there," Binks, the male prefect said, pointing to the right side of the room.

"And the girls' dormitories are through there," Pince said, pointing at the other door on the left side of the room.

"Each of you have your own room and shower. Here at Slytherin we encourage you to become proficient at wards. And if you aren't, then you should befriend someone who is and benefit from that."

"You'll find that the strong your friendships and alliances inside school are, the further you'll go after school."

"Try to not stay up too late. And do look sharp tomorrow morning." Binks looked at the hand-me-down clothes the twins obviously wore. "While coming from families with money and power is assumed of our house, it is not always the case. Should you find yourself with secondhand clothing or money, there is a separate fund that the seventh year Slytherin prefects are in charge of which is dedicated to buying better, more becoming attire for those in the house who cannot afford it."

"We are, after all, the best house. We have to look the part. And everyone being from Slytherin, we treat each other with respect and afford each other better opportunities and affiliations befitting of Slytherins, regardless of who you are related to or where you come from."

The Weasley twins frowned at that, though Harry knew that they didn't take that as a slight. It was their thinking face. "Should you be up for it, when you graduate or leave Hogwarts and you'd like to donate to the fund to promote the wellness of future Slytherins, we do encourage you to give back to the fund a few hundred galleons. Nearly every Slytherin who has ever graduated has. Consider it a right of passage, once you've become successful in your ventures and can afford it."

"Now, I think it is time we left you all to get to know one another. Spend some time at the round table learning one another's names, perhaps a bit about each other, your families, what subjects you're looking forward to, any clubs or sports you're interested in."

"Slytherin is one of the most strongly united houses in the school. We want to keep it that way. Get to it."

The prefects left on that note and the first years awkwardly looked at one another. "Well," Harry began, walking over to the table and sitting down at a chair, the rest of his classmates following suit. "I'm Harry Potter. I'm heir to the Potter line. I love traveling and history and ancient runes and languages. There hasn't been a Potter sorted into Slytherin since 1673, though my grandmother, Dorea Black, was a Slytherin."

Harry looked at the girl next to him. She was a pretty blonde girl with bright, dazzling dark blue eyes. Harry blinked and felt himself blush before looking away quickly and hoping no one noticed. "I'm Celeste Greengrass, heiress to the Greengrass line. I have three younger sisters. I like Astronomy and Ancient Runes. My parents run an enchanting business in Knockturn Ally. My grandfather was well known for designing and enchanting the cleansweep 7 and for playing on the Puddlemere United team."

Harry could barely focus after that. He kept glancing at Celeste. She was playing with a strand of hair. He felt embarrassed and couldn't shake the feeling. She finally caught him staring and shot him a look, and he immediately looked away, blushing. Thankfully, the gods had been looking down on him at that moment and no one had noticed.

The rest of the first years introduced themselves, Troy Parkinson being the only snobbish one at the table, looking pointedly at Harry and Beck Davis declaring pompously that he "was born of noble, pure blood, unlike some of us here who's once pure lines had been polluted by the blood of less savory magicals."

Beck had puckered his lips embarrassedly. Harry instead grinned at the boy. "Is 'less savory magicals' a euphemism for mudblood, Troy? I appreciate you using appropriate language during this little introduction and being so upfront and honest with your values. It's good to understand they type of person someone is from the get go."

Harry heard Celeste muffle a snort next to him. There were a few other first years gaping at him, Fred and George were smiling just as nicely as Harry. The three of them had learned early on to play their cards close to their chests. It gave them the opportunity to surprise more frequently, something all of them equally enjoyed. "Right. It's much easier navigating a conversation with someone-"

"If we know we're blood traitors to them-"

"Even if we've never talked to them ever before or done anything at all to them or their family."

Troy frowned deeply at the twins, trying to figure out their game. He gave up and stood from the table declaring that he was going to go write his parents, who were expecting his letter.

Only a few other first years stayed at the table to talk more, and of that group they moved to the couches. Harry sat next to Celeste, trying to not show just how aware he was of how close proximity they were in at the moment.

"Celeste, Connie and I all know each other from our parents," Beck explained. "Our mothers were good friends in school."

"Harry's been close to our family since we were, what, six?" George asked him. Harry nodded.

"We've gone on a few vacations with him and Neville and Ron."

"Neville, the boy-who-lived?" The other girl, Connie, asked, wide eyed.

Harry felt his guard go up. He was suddenly unsure of the girl but didn't know what else to say. No one in the school needed to know of his close relationship to the boy-who-lived. He didn't want anyone asking him anything about Neville. He caught the twins' eyes and shook his head lightly. They understood immediately. "Yeah, he's a distant cousin and is best friends with our younger brother."

"He's a rather busy chap, though. What with the fame and saving thing."

Fred nodded at his brother's words. "Don't know much about him, really. Just that he isn't very good on a broom and tends to stick to Ron's side quite a bit. The two play chess a lot."

"He's wicked with plants, though. Quite the green thumb."

"Yeah. Herbology had never met someone better at the subject than that bloke."

Everyone blinked. Then Harry laughed. "I always thought it made sense that the baby that the Dark Lord was beaten by likes spending his time surrounded by flowers. Quite opposite, really, Herbologists and Dark Lords."

Harry pictured the scene this time and laughed for real. The twins joined him, deciding to create something along the lines of a flower sword for Neville that Christmas.

Soon everyone was showing signs of their tiredness. The boys migrated to their rooms, Harry sneaking one more glance at Celeste, who seemed to have picked up on the looks and quirked a brow at him when he finally did, as if challenging him to meekly look away again. This time, however, Harry met her gaze straight on. He felt odd. He was eleven, sure, but he felt like she was asking him something, like her magic was reaching out to him in a way he hadn't ever experienced before. His shoulders straightened, he looked her clearly in the eye for the first time, and fought down the urge to pompously puff out his chest. He wasn't an idiot and he wouldn't act like one, but he was strong, even for an eleven-year-old. And something inside of him knew that Celeste was gauging how strong, and he would show her just a little bit of who he was becoming.

Much to his surprise, when he finally smirked at her, she blushed and shook her hair in front of her face, pretending to notice something on her robes that she flicked at, turning away. Harry saw the quirk of her mouth though, the twitch of a smile. He grinned as he turned to the stairway. Yes, he was quite looking forward to school and all the new friendships he would make.

Harry was having a blast. He spent endless amounts of time getting to know everyone in his grade. Since he wasn't allowed to roam the castle as he pleased in the evening, something the caretaker, Filch, was rather proud of asserting each time Harry was caught even two minutes outside of the curfew, he had decided early into the semester, that his waking hours in the dead of the night were to be spent studying and doing what physical training he could in his dorm room. Thankfully, the Slytherin dormitories had enough magical space where each student had their own room. Besides that, Harry was quite fond of spending time in their smaller common room, keeping the Weasley twins awake, who were getting into the habit of taking turns staying up with him.

Harry was quickly becoming well known in his year. Much to Snape's furry, for the man had at first seemed out to get him, but Harry was something of the perfect student. He got top grades, he was friendly and approachable, a quality that Slytherin's hardly ever showed, and he gave the Gryffindor's a head ache.

While the twins were the genius's behind inventing the pranks, Harry was great at coming up with the ideas. He would casually point them in the right direction, help them with the little problems they would come across when searching for a little charm. They were going to be deadly in a few years when they finally got down the way to put a timer on a charm or a potion.

Harry spent a lot of time alone, walking around the castle. He finally found the Headmaster's quarters, finding the portraits to be very helpful in deed with that task. "Say, do you think I'm allowed up in the Headmaster's office now?" Harry asked the gargoyle who guarded the rooms. He didn't receive a response. That's when Harry turned to the portrait nearest the gargoyle. "Hello."

"Hello there, good sir!" The portrait responded jovially. "Find yourself in a spot of trouble, young sir?"

"Not quite. Well, at least, not today." Harry winked at the chuckling portrait. "I was wondering if I might pay Sort, the Sorting Hat a visit. He said I could, but I'm not sure if the headmaster would allow me up there without a scheduled appointment."

"Oh-ho!" The man twirled his mustache. "Finally, the crusty bit of leather has found a friend! Sort is always bitching about loneliness." Harry blinked. "The password to the Headmaster's office is Fizzypop."

"Oh. Well, thank you, sir."

"No, no! Thank you, Harry Potter! You are making this school much more interesting indeed!"

Harry shook his head and kept his smile. "Fizzypop," he said to the gargoyle, who jumped aside and allowed Harry entrance. Harry walked up the stairs and through the open door at the top, slowly moving inside. "Hello?" he greeted into the room. He heard a beautiful sound from near the desk and saw Faux, the same phoenix who had granted him a feather for his wand, excitedly awaiting him in his perch. "Hello, Faux! And how is England's most handsome phoenix doing this evening?"

He got a beautifully sung response and grinned at the happy feeling that grew within him. He stroked the plumage of the legendary bird. "Do you think the Headmaster will mind that I'm up here without his permission?" he asked quietly. The Bird gave him a response that felt like a negative. "Good, good. I was going to pick up Sort and have a walk around the castle with him. Would you like to come with us? I don't suppose you see the inside of the castle very much, do you? It must be a bit difficult flying around inside when you could possibly set things on fire."

The phoenix trilled sadly but happily hopped up onto Harry's shoulder. Harry's ashwinder hissed a warning from inside his robes. _"Do not let that overly excited fiery chicken near me, Harry. He feasts on my brothers like they are an uncommon candy."_

Harry sniggered and pet the phoenix. _"Do not worry, Shelly. No harm will ever come to you so long as I am near. That was and always will by my promise to you, my friend."_

"Oh, a Parslemouth, hmm?" One of the portraits asked. Harry spotted the headmaster who questioned him and grinned conspiratorially at the older man. He winked and made his way over to the Hat. "No doubt a Slytherin of course. Make me proud, child."

"Hey, Sort," Harry called, trying to rouse the what seemed to be sleeping Hat. "You up for a bit of an adventure?"

"Hmmm… Adventure you say?" the hat asked.

"Mhmm. It just so happens that I think I've found the Chamber of Secrets."

Harry had, in fact, found the Chamber. He was sure of it. Everything pointed at the chamber being located in the second floor girls' bathroom. The thing that frightened him, however, was the possibility of basilisks being down in the chamber as well. He knew it was a long shot and highly unlikely that there was an ancient basilisk hiding down there in the Chamber, but he figured if Faux agreed to go with him, he would be able to get out of there safely without getting hurt. Or dying.

The Hat excitedly allowed itself to be placed on Harry's head and agreed with his reasoning and safety precautions. "Faux, do you think that's an okay plan?"

The bird sang him an agreement and assured him he would be safe with the bird. Excited as Harry was, he took the long way to the second floor, showing the Hat and the Phoenix his favorite places around the castle. Faux was greatly enjoying the experience, singing beautifully from Harry's shoulder for most of the walk. Sort was taking his time to tell some of the funnier stories about the castle and many of the head master's and mistresses' problems along the years.

"Yes, and this is where Bob Finklestein accidentally reanimated a dead cat. He was but a first year and was so startled by the poor dead thing that his magic made it move around and do a jig of sorts. He was mortified by the entire experience but none of the professors could hit the damn thing with a curse to stop it. Bit like an inferri pet, very morbid, very morbid in deed. None the less funny when it started humping the nasty old caretakers at the time."

Harry laughed at that coming to a stop in front of the girls' toilet. This would be the moment of truth. He walked inside, grateful that moaning Myrtle was not there this time, and strode purposefully toward the sink. He looked carefully at it and pointed triumphantly. "See there, the snake?" Harry pointed out. Sort agreed in his head. The phoenix leaned forward on his shoulder and shuffled its wings excitedly.

"Open it, Harry." Harry thought for a moment and shrugged, _Open_ he hissed.

To their collective surprise, the sinks opened, showing a dark dank tunnel. "Holy shit," he muttered.

"Godric's balls," Sort agreed. Harry hissed for stairs and was pleasantly surprised when they appeared.

Harry began walking down them. Faux burped out a bubble of fire that glowed in front of them, burning out when they reached the bottom of the stairs and stood in front of a door. _"Harry, I feel a King's presence,"_ Shelly warned him. " _It reekss of a great, great one. He is very powerful, Harry, very, very powerful."_

Likewise, Harry felt his magic warn him. "My magic is warning me," he told his friends. Faux trilled a promising song to him, and he felt the courage well up in him. He turned to the stairs. _Close_ he hissed up. He heard the grinding sound of the sinks closing up behind him. The torches that magically lit on each side of the door stayed lit. "There is a basilisk. There is definitely a basilisk. Shelly can feel it and my magic is practically spinning around me."

"Take this, Potter," Sort said.

"Ouch!" Harry yelped, feeling something heavy and solid clunk on his head. He pulled sort off of his head and blinked dumbly as a sword unsheathed itself. He smirked at the hat. "Sheething mighty swords inside your brim, are you, Sort? Mhmm… you're a dirty magical object, aren't you?"

"Well, I've got to get my kicks from somewhere, Potter. What would you expect of an enchanted piece of meat."

Harry laughed, despite his anxiety. "I'm warning you, Potter. There is most likely an ancient basilisk in there. Don't you want to tell someone rather than go in it alone?"

Harry shook his head. "That would endanger them. I won't be affected by the eyes of a basilisk. And Faux has promised to protect me and help with this. If more people are here, it would be a distraction, the snake could get loose, I don't think that's a good idea. Magical Snakes are usually better dealt with alone, their strength comes from confusing and scaring groups, getting them to act against each other and then hiding in the shadows. When they face an individual, they give a warning and then attack. We will have to attack during the warning or when it attacks. Faux, maybe you can distract it or hurt it somehow and I'll try to shoot a piercing jinx through its mouth or eye?"

They quickly came up with a plan and Harry opened the door. A huge chamber opened up to him. He immediately saw a snake skin, no less than fifty feet long, and fought down his fear. He breathed deeply in, then slowly released it. If this problem weren't handled now, he would feel guilty if it became a problem and someone was again hurt, should someone besides him open the chamber.

"Only a month into your education and you're taking on Basilisks. Such a Potter."

Sort gave him the only encouragement he needed. A giant mouth at the other end of the Chamber opened wide. " _Who daress intrude here?"_

Harry steeled himself, gripping the sword in his left hand and his wand in his right. _"Hello, ssnake. I am Harry Potter. I found this chamber and wished to ssee it."_

" _But you are not Tom Riddle, young Harry Potter! Masster Tom hass not come for quite ssome time,"_ it hissed, slithering out from the hole. Harry felt every emotion pass through him all at once and thought that this moment would be a hell of a story to tell to the twins. _"Yess, Lord Voldemort, the Dark Lord who promised to bring good fortune to the Sslytherin name oncce more."_

Harry felt ill. " _Lord Voldemort is evil. He is nasty. He is a wicked, wicked man, who will do nothing but tarnish and poison the reputation of everything he meets."_

The snake roared, coiling up on itself and spitting venom at Harry. _"You will not disssressspect my Masssster, the descendent of greatnessss!"_

Harry shivered violently, once. Faux gave a mighty trill, a piercing scream that made the basilisk shrink back for a moment. The moment was all the phoenix needed to rip its talons through the eyes of the beast. Harry rushed forward, the gaping mouth of the basilisk screaming in agony, its eyes destroyed. It began flailing itself about, cursing at Harry and sensing the first year. Harry dodged out of the way again and again, waiting, patiently waiting, timing each and every step as perfectly as he could. Finally, the basilisk opened its mouth to strike him and Harry let it, angling himself and the sword perfectly into the roof of the mouth of the beast. "Fuck," he cursed, feeling the basilisk die on the sword, sinking down onto it just enough for one of the fangs to pierce through his jumper and into his arm. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," he cursed over and over, feeling the burn instantly begin. He stumbled out from the maw of the monster, fang imbedded in his arm. He held the sword firm in his hand and pulled the fang out with his other. "Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck" he chanted, sweating. He was getting light headed. Sort was trying to calm him down. He couldn't hear anything but a ringing in his ears and a fire spreading within him. Faux was crying. Harry thought he was going to die, but suddenly realized he wasn't dying. Faux was crying right into his arm, the place where he originally felt severe burning. Before he knew it, Faux had flamed them into the Great Hall, where Albus Dumbldore and most of the school were having lunch.

"Be… careful, professor. That's a… a basilisk fang," Harry warned, not being able to hear anything anyone was saying, but seeing the professor reaching toward him. "And… and the sword is covered in it, too."

Then, for the first time in seven years, Harry felt himself succumb to sleep.

* * *

 **A/N: Hey there, let me know if you'd like to beta. I'm looking. Thanks. -Krissy**


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two:**

 **Monotony**

* * *

Harry Potter kept his eyes shut as he woke up. He felt… odd. He couldn't quite figure out how, but he felt odd indeed. Slowly he stretched his body, breathing in very deeply and letting it out as he opened his eyes.

"Oh, so Boy Wonder is finally awake, is he?" Snape drawled, setting the parchments to the side he was grading. Harry saw a large 'T' on the last one he marked and held back a laugh. Looking at his head of house's expression, he couldn't figure out what the man was feeling. His face was a blank mask, and he sat there poised as ever, not letting on a thing. Harry again smirked. For the man to not be expressing any dislike must mean he was feeling quite a bit more than contempt right now.

"Harry!" Harry was all of the sudden embraced by his godfather. Behind him was a stunning blonde who fondly ran her hand through his messed mop of hair. "Why must you go doing stupid things without me? You know, snakes don't have to up and do everything on their own, they're allowed to have friends, even if they are greasier and more gross than any Gryffindor."

Harry rolled his eyes at the teasing. "Being sorted into Slytherin is going to make life much more interesting than Gryffindor ever would have been." Harry smiled at the woman behind Sirius. "Hello, Rebekkah. How are you?"

"Better than you, I am sure," she purred, her French accent slight and adding to her general foreign beauty vibe. "Please try to not come so close to death, Harry. I'm going to need you to look after my cousin while you're here."

"Cousin? Who is your cousin?" Harry asked. He blushed when he realized that his head of house was being completely ignored. "Excuse me, sir. I apologize. Uncle Sirius, I know you already know Professor Snape from school, but now he is my head of house and in charge of my general well being, so perhaps an apology or a fresh introduction would be alright?"

The men stared at each other. Harry was getting noticeably more and more anxious. His face was knotting at odd places, he started pulling apart the blanket he was draped with. When he started to rock in place, Rebekkah huffed, throwing her hands in the air. "The immaturity is incredible. I, for one, am sorry that my boyfriend was such an unbelievable asshole and bully in school, Professor Snape. I have heard stories. He is not proud of some of the things he has done to you and unfortunately his pride is getting in the way of admitting that." She shot him a nasty glare. The man was pouting and glowering at her right back. She turned her attention back to the young professor. "I am Rebekkah Kross. Harry has written home about how attentive you are to the students under your care, and how seriously you take your position as Head of House. It does wonders to alleviating our fears, knowing he doesn't have an idiot in charge of his well being."

Snape smirked and took her hand briefly. He kissed the back of it lightly. "Professor Severus Snape. It is nice to make your formal acquaintance, even if you do spend enough time with the mutt to have a questionable mind…"

"Yes well, it's for the good of Britain that he's not left on his own, really. I'm a martyr if nothing else."

Harry grinned, watching the pair smirk at one another. Sirius looked very put out, but he really was a git to Snape in school. "Mr. Potter," Snape addressed him, seriously. Harry's smile vanished. "Should you find yourself in a life or death situation again, I should hope that you would tell me first before heading straight into the fray, _swinging a sword._ "

Harry cleared his throat, it had dried up suddenly. He tried swallowing. Looking at his professor, he nodded. "This was a special circumstance, sir. It was a basilisk underneath the school, and anyone who isn't a Parslemouth was endangered."

"Then we could have brought a rooster with us into the chamber, could we not." Harry's mouth opened and closed a few times. He felt incredibly stupid. Snape nodded. "While you are proving yourself to be Lily Evans' son, there is no doubt where you get your stupidity from." He rose from the chair, not listening to the retorts that Sirius was now throwing his way in defense of his late friend. "Madam Pomfrey is currently dealing with a broken bone, but rest assured she should show up in a few minutes and run tests on you, Potter."

"Yes, Professor. Thank you, Professor." His head of house turned and began leaving. "Wait!" Harry called out. He could tell that he was a good man who was struggling to see himself as a good man. Some people needed a push and acceptance. Harry could offer him that. "Professor, would you mind helping me harvest the basilisk? You could keep some of the venom, if you'd like."

For the second time since he walked through the front doors of the school, Harry Potter surprised Severus Snape, and it was one of the most satisfying moments he had experienced yet.

"So, what you're saying is," Beck Davis spluttered, yet again. "Is that you found the Chamber of Secrets, figured out that the monster down there was a basilisk, took a phoenix and a magical hat down there with you, your plan being to, to, either shove your wand through its eye or hit it with a piercing curse?" Harry nodded, chewing on his sandwich. "And then, you were right, and you get down there, and the Hogwarts Sorting Hat magically gives you Godric Gryffindor's sword, one that's famous and has been missing for years and years and years? A magical artifact that was sought after by the goblins and literally started two of the Goblin rebellions?"

"Yeah, that sword."

Celeste hid her smile behind her hand as Harry feigned boredom. "And then," Beck continued. Harry had discretely winked at Celeste, which made the girl frown and look away, a slight blush on her face. Harry was smirking again. "The phoenix you bring down there with you takes out the eyes that are capable of killing you with a glance?" Harry was drinking his water and didn't respond. Beck continued anyway. "And then you stabbed the thing through the roof of its mouth when it was trying to eat you? And one of its fans pierced you and you nearly died?"

"Actually, it was two of the fangs, I was confused at first." Harry shrugged. "That's why I passed out, there was two spots where venom had been injected and Faux and I were only aware of one at first."

"Right!" Beck cried, incredulously. "Right! Because if it had been just one, you wouldn't have passed out for three days! Because, you know, the phoenix cried on your wound, but only the one, so the tears had to pass through the rest of your system and make its way to your second wound before it could heal and by then there was damage."

Harry nodded, satisfied. He was sure that once Beck knew the story to completion, it wouldn't be long before they could all move on from the awkward, silly rumors going around. Beck through his hands up in exasperation. The Slytherin first years collectively seemed to roll their eyes, a bad habit taken from Harry and one of the few obnoxious expressions he actually had.

They were in their private common room. Harry had finished telling them exactly what happened. Sort was verifying the story from the middle of the circular table, adding details here and there. No one knew that Harry was a Parslemouth, the only real secret he wanted to keep.

"Can you show us the Chamber?" Rosalie, one of the quieter first years asked.

Harry tilted his head. "Everyone who enters the Chamber has to find it on its own. That's how it stays a secret, I think."

The twins held their tongues. They had already been to the Chamber with Harry. It had taken them each a while to get it perfect but finally both of the twins managed to speak the Parsletongue _open_ and get the chamber to open for them.

They were already considering it to be their personal secret lair, they just needed to figure out a way to spice up the place. Clean it a bit. Crust and Tilt, two of the Potter house elves, were having a great time cleaning the dirty mucky chamber to their heart's content. Harry and the twins were picking up books on charms and such, writing down ideas they had for making the place more fun and overall the ultimate hang out area. They were going to test most of their ideas in their little personal common room first, but they were already getting started with renovations.

Harry was thinking about spending a few thousand dollars on updated muggle furniture and technology. Benjy had friends who were working on patenting formulas for their invention that allowed muggle tech to work in heavy magical areas. Harry was hopeful. The tv and video game set he had ordered from them was working perfectly. He was worried he would need to purposefully break it soon if the twins didn't start limiting themselves.

Sirius knew of his intentions too and loved the idea of turning the Chamber of Secrets into a lair full of muggle inventions and contraptions. He called it an ultimate prank. They all appreciated the irony. Sirius was currently trying to get his hands on a movie projector from a muggle theater. In the end he decided to buy out the nasty theater at the end of his block in London. He hired Benjy's friends to come in and work their magic so all of the magical charms, enchantments, and wards wouldn't interrupt the current to and from the building.

They did so and held a grand reopening. Going off of a suggestion that Harry had made when Sirius talked about his idea, Rebekkah convinced Sirius to close his theater on Monday nights to the muggle public and have it a 'magicals only' night where people could apparate in, floo, portkey, or enter through the back entrance that was charmed much like the Leaky Cauldron. She had advertised first to the goblins, next the hags, vampires, werewolves, veela, centaurs, house elves, and squibs. They weren't going to tell the witches and wizards about it or advertise the theater to them at all, though if they started to go to the movies, no one would stop them.

It was the perfect distraction for Sirius. He felt like he was endlessly waiting for his books to finally publish and finish being edited. He had made a lot of promises and knew that his books were going to be important to other people and not just him, however, so he didn't dare skip a process and get a single thing wrong before he began selling the books. They had had endless meetings, he had read and reread and read again the edited versions of his manuscripts, answering question after question, refusing to change certain things, allowing changes and convincing the parties' whose stories he was telling it was okay. But most of that was over now, for his first ten books at least. They were just publishing it and sending it to enough people as gifts and presents to make it a talked about, excited release. Renovating the movie theater and starting Magics Only Mondays was terrific.

While they were making plans to turn the Chamber of Secrets into a Marauder lair of their own, All of them were studying very hard. Snape did not allow the Weasley twins to slack off on their homework, making them spend hours and hours in the Potions Lab with him, cleaning cauldrons by hand whenever he found out they had skived off completing homework and were instead focusing on independent study.

"If you want to go anywhere in this world," he drawled, time and time again, "You're going to learn that the easiest way to do so is the path most traveled."

They would argue with him, something Harry had no understanding of because, of course, the older man was right. "Honestly," Snape had said one evening. "What do you think happens after school? Hmm? Whatever you might want to do, whatever path you go down for a career, you're going to need money. You can't go on inventing spells and potions of your own without having funding, can you? Do you think banks just give out money to whomever they like? You need to prove that you'll likely have a return on those funds, that you're smart enough to make good use of the money they are giving you. No one is going to give a few hundred galleons to an idiot who couldn't even pass their Potions NEWT because they have a good idea for a potion. They're going to invest in someone who had gotten top marks and has an idea for a potion. I'm not going to have the discussion with you again, either of you. Have I made myself clear? Will you stop being dunderheads and do your bloody homework?"

Snape didn't have to ask them again to do their homework.

Time passed rather quickly in the castle, but Harry soon found he was getting a bit bored. There was only so much time you could spend, cooped up in a room for hours and hours on end. And while he was a fan of routine, he also hated monotony. Everyday seemed to be the same thing. Harry's friends would go to bed. He would finish whatever homework had been assigned that he hadn't done yet. Then he would work on a personal study or essay of some kind. He had committed to finishing a book every night and wouldn't put it down until he did. Some nights he could read up to five books when he found something he was really curious about. Most nights he stuck to one and a second one to get a bit ahead.

From there, Harry would write letters to people. He was very good at keeping in touch and had an entire compartment in his trunk dedicated to letters he had received over the years. The secret, he had found, was being light and entertaining and remembering important things to people, like birthdays.

After correspondence, Harry would meditate. He would clear his mind, relax, put things in his brain away, sort through memories, make decisions, think clearly, and clear his thoughts. It was one of his favorite things to do every day and he would finish his meditations feeling refreshed and ready to go.

Then he would train. He would start with the indoor work outs he could do, spending time doing light weight training, pull ups, push ups, hitting a punching bag. At six he was finally allowed to leave the Slytherin Common room and he would do so eagerly, running through the halls at ten to six, racing a portrait on horseback to one of the side entrances in the castle that let out near the cliffs, a path from there going to the lake. Now that it was snowing daily, Harry would run with his wand out, either banishing or melting snow or simply throwing it up in the air when he was hot so he could run through it.

He would run endlessly. Sometimes a young Hippogriff would join him, just running near him or flying overhead. Harry had found out from Hagrid that the Hippogriff's name was Buckbeak. They seemed to get along.

When he was finished he would shower, eat breakfast and review his notes and homework for that days classes. Once the twins had been pushed, they quickly climbed the academic ladder, each of them landing in the top five best grades for each of their courses.

About once a week Harry would help his twins with a prank, either helping them with the general plan or help them with getting around being caught. Now they only got caught every so often pranking people and professors.

Harry would spend his free time during the day exploring the castle and talking to portraits. Cedric liked to join him on his quest to find every hidden nook and cranny. Sort also liked to come along and talk to the portraits he hardly ever saw. The ghosts began getting in on the fun, hearing rumors that Harry was known to be something of a story teller and seemed to know all types of stories from all over the world. They wanted to be a part of that, too.

After dinner Harry would spend the majority of his time inside of the library, usually only breaking for an hour to have a private session with one of his professors where he would present them with his new studies, having been encouraged to move forward through his curriculum at an accelerated rate since he seemed to soak up knowledge like a sponge. The only subject he struggled to move at a fast pace with was transfigurations, much to his annoyance.

"Potter, don't be so upset that the transfigurations are difficult for you," McGonagall chided. "These are third year transfigurations you're trying. That's no small feat for a first year."

"I know, Professor. It's just… Dad was so good with Transfigurations and I study all of the material and I know all of the wand movements and I can push my magic into things and make them change…"

They sat, each thinking for a while. Finally McGonagall pushed her glasses up the bridge of her nose and looked at Harry. "What feelings do you have when you try to transfigure a mouse into a tea cup, Harry?"

"Usually I'm very concentrated. I clearly picture what I want to do. I take what I'm changing and I try to make it change to what I want."

"That sounds very… forced?" She offered. She cleared her throat, leaning back in her chair. "Have you ever ridden a motorcycle, Harry?"

He blinked. "Y-yeah?"

"Okay. There is a difference between driving a motorcycle and flying on a broom, yes?" Harry nodded, trying to understand. "Well, when you drive a motorcycle, you're very limited. You're forced to move forward, turning a wheel in front to make a turn, skidding to a stop instead of stopping on a dime. It's much less… fluid than flying, isn't it?"

Harry began to understand what she was saying. He nodded eagerly. "And transfigurations are more like flying a broom, the fluidity of the feeling, rather than something like Dueling magics that are more like riding a motorcycle." He grinned excitedly at the professor, jumping up from his chair. He pointed his wand at the mouse in front of him, changing it to a cute cup, perfectly transfigured. "Thank you, Professor!" He kissed her on the cheek, bouncing out of the tutoring session. He was half way back to the Slytherin chambers when he realized what he had done but he just shook it off and continued on his way.

Sure he had been the first potter in three hundred years to be sorted into Slytherin, and yes he had slain a Basilisk, made friends with an ancient relic, had his life saved by a phoenix and discovered a legendary Chamber in his school. And yes, Harry had been immediately put on the Slytherin quidditch team during his first flying lesson when the sixth year Slytherin captain just so happened to be looking out the window. And there was that time two weeks before when Buckbeak had decided it was time for Harry to really fly and swept him up onto his back during one of his runs in the morning. All of that may have happened, and yeah, Harry was making his way through the Hogwarts library at a rate near impossible for anyone else to ever attempt to accomplish, but he was bored.

Bored. Bored. Bored.

He was used to traveling, going on adventures, making friends, meeting new people. He was so bored! He had never spent such a long time in one place. Sirius was currently making fun of him and his frustrations being so bored, sending him lots of things in the mail that he could use as entertainment but it was to no avail. Harry Potter was bored.

Harry Potter needed another adventure.

* * *

 **A/N: Hey, sorry about the filler chapter but the information is needed for future referencing. Let me know if you'd like to beta. Thanks. -Krissy**


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